Page 27 of On The Edge

“No.”

“You like me then?” he murmurs as he runs the tip of his nose down the line of my neck and yes, I freeze. The heat of his body against mine. The scent of his cologne. The feel of his hands on me.

The simplicity of seduction by suggestion and touch.

You can’t be turned on, Maddix. You just broke up with Michael. The same Michael who I thought I had a pretty healthy sex life with. But when was the last time he made you feel like this? The butterflies in your stomach and ache at the center of your core? The tingle across your skin as you anticipate where he’s going to touch next? As you wait and want?

How about never?

My pulse races. I’m embarrassed and worried that he’ll be able to feel it with how hard it’s beating. His face is so close to my neck.

I struggle to maintain even breathing. To not let him know I’m affected by any of this. Not the hardening of his cock under my ass. Not the subtle change in the rise and fall of his chest. Not the way he just darted his tongue out to lick his bottom lip.

He lifts a hand and runs the backs of his fingers down my cheek. My face instinctively turns into it. Into him. And I’m already mad at myself for it and for how he’s making me feel, before his hand finishes running the length of my cheek.

He’s right there. Inches from my lips. Those eyes and that mouth and . . . just everything.

“Maddix?” he murmurs.

“Hmm?” Is he going to kiss me? Why do I want him to kiss me?

“This is how we do it.”

“Do what?” I ask, completely distracted by everything that is him.

“Pull this whole charade off.”

I freeze, and this time it’s for so much more than fear of Mellie seeing this isn’t real. It’s because I thought this was real—him desiring me—and now realize what an idiot I am for thinking that.

“Oh.” It’s a stuttered sound.

“See? I’m so good, even you believed it.”

I extricate myself from his hold and take the seat opposite him, not thrilled about what just happened and pretending not to care or feel as stupid as I do.

This was all a game to him.

Just like it seems everything is.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Cruz

It seems a cold shoulder is a normal state with her.

Fucking perfect.

Or at least that’s the state Maddix has been in since she fell asleep after my little demonstration and then woke up when we landed.

Is she that sensitive that she’s pissed off over how her body reacted to me? She can deny it all she wants, but I heard the hitch of her breath. I felt the heat of her pussy on my thigh. I saw the parting of her mouth as my lips touched the shell of her ear when I spoke.

To say I wasn’t affected would be a lie. I’m a guy. She’s hot in that librarian, girl-next-door American way when I’m used to more of the exotic, sultry woman.

She’s right. I do have my type. Have I veered from it in the past? Yes. Few and far between, but I have veered.

Would I veer for her?

The jury’s out at this point. It would only serve to complicate matters that are already complicated, but fuck if it isn’t fun toying with her.